


Breakfast at Ikea

by teacupears



Category: Harry Styles (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anyways, F/M, an pretending to be a couple at ikea, anyways again, i use taylor hill for this, it's not so much a relationship as it is just having made friends at ikea, lbr, that's not important but, this is supposed to be 2 parts but 1 ends decently i think, totally relationship potential tho, ya know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2019-10-08 10:24:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17384738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupears/pseuds/teacupears
Summary: mayhaps one day i'll write part 2





	Breakfast at Ikea

**Author's Note:**

> mayhaps one day i'll write part 2

Staring out the window into the large parking lot that had very few cars (he was excited about that because it meant he could truly enjoy sitting on every piece of furniture) Harry wondered why he had never had breakfast at Ikea before. Because it was actually pretty good.  


 

“Excuse me,” he was being spoken too. By a feminine voice. “do you mind if I sit with you? Haven’t got many other options really.” He turned from the window just in time to see a girl, about his age he’d say, slightly gesture to the severe lack of available tables.  
This was weird for her. He could tell. The gentle laugh that came with her question. The way her eyebrows were raised in a sort of apologetic way that said ‘we are strangers and I’m sorry to bother but please be kind’. She’d probably had encountered plenty of rude strangers before. Poor thing.

 

Thankfully Harry’s mother had raised him right.

 

“Of course. Yeah.” He smiled at her and she breathed the tiniest sigh of relief and sat down across from him, hanging her bright blue purse on the back of her chair. “They must be sort on maintenance staff this morning.” She laughed and nodded her head in acknowledgement of his comment as she cut apart her pancakes. There wasn’t really anything she could say to that, so he was fine with her response. “I’m Harry.”

 

“Harry?” He nodded. “Hm. Good for you.”

 

“I’m sorry?” Good for you?

 

“Being named Harry and all.” Ah. “Usually like, really lame guys are named Harry. Or like, grandpas who are angry all the time because they’re old.” She nodded her head at her own analysis. “But you seem like a cool guy. So good for you, bringing the name back and whatnot.”

 

“Oh.” She dipped two triangles of pancakes into some strawberry jam before shoving them into her mouth. “Thanks I guess.” She nodded again. “And you?’

 

She stopped chewing and looked at him. She breathed heavily through her nose in what sounded like a short muffled laugh before swallowing the food that was in her mouth. And then she smiled him.

 

“Don’t laugh okay.” She smiled wider, laughing slightly.

 

“What?” He laughed. And she laughed a little more.

 

“Don’t laugh.” She was laughing.

 

“Okay.” He let out one more chuckle before settling himself down. “Okay I won’t laugh.”

 

“It’s Taffeta.”

 

They just stared at each other.

 

“Taffeta?”

 

“Yeah.” He nodded.

 

“Like the-”

 

“The fabric yeah. My mom was a real nut.” He nodded again, processing the information. He was actually thinking of the character from Wreck-It Ralph, because honestly speaking Harry wasn’t that knowledgeable in fabrics. But he wouldn’t let her know that.

 

“Alright. Harry and Taffeta. Eating breakfast together at a small table in Ikea.” She laughed and he smiled. “Sounds alright to me.”

 

The two chatted comfortably for the remainder of their breakfast. He asked if she was aware that her boots and purse were the same color, or if it was just a happy accident. She laughed at his jokes (which he was quite pleased with, even more so when she actually told him that he was funny. (He would later call his sister and let her know that she was wrong because a stranger at Ikea found him funny.)) and made a few of her own. They were quite the pair.

 

He finished his breakfast before she did, which was understandable, as he did start a bit before her, and excused himself from the table to throw his trash away. She was nice company. Certainly made his breakfast more interesting. When he returned to grab his leather jacket they said their goodbyes, wishing each other well on their impending Ikea adventures.

 

~

 

They met again deep in the living room district. Harry wasn’t sure how Taffeta ended up ahead of him, but there she was. Standing in a dimly lit model living room, she took a bite out of the apple that had been sitting on her tray earlier as she examined the glass chest style table that sat in the center of the set up. Harry sat down on a couch in the living room directly across from her. Spreading his arms across the back and resting his ankle on his knee.

 

“Well well well.” He said it loud enough for her to pull her attention from the table. His voice had startled her a bit but she smiled when she saw it was him. “Who knew we lived so close to each other.”

 

She looked confused for a moment. Her eyes shifting around her as to help her understand his comment.

 

“Uh…” She laughed awkwardly and nodded her head, not knowing how to respond. What was he talking about? She looked around again. At the television. The couch. The painting on the wall. “Oh!” Harry smiled wider. “Yes. We, living rooms, right.” She laughed at herself. She was cute. “Yes what a small world we live in hmm.” Harry laughed.

 

They stood (sat) in their separate living rooms. Staring at each other and laughing together but to themselves, as not to be too loud.

 

~

 

There she was again. How she kept getting ahead of him in this store he’d never know, but there she was. In the workspaces. She was sitting in a desk chair, pushing her weight back to see how far the chair would lean.

 

“Taffeta, darling.” He startled her again. She spins around to face him, the fringe on her coat swinging from the rush.

 

“Harry.”

 

“My dear.” He sat down in the chair across from her, resting his arms on the desk and lacing his fingers together. “Have you thought about my offer?”

 

Resting her elbows on the arms of her chair she pretended to check her manicure, “I have.”

 

“And?” She snapped her head towards him, giving him a look that said she meant business. A hint of a smile that she tried to fight.

 

“And,” she pressed the tips of her fingers against the desk, the palms of her hands never touching it and pushed herself up until she standing. “You honestly think, that you can buy my affections with, nice flowers” she motioned to the flowers on the desk, “and great art?!” She motioned to the artwork that hung on the wall next to them.

 

Harry wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh so bad.

 

But he didn’t. She was playing along so he kept it together.

 

“Yes.” He stood up as well. “Yes I did.”

 

She was also struggling to keep a straight face.

 

“Well.” She shook her head gently as if she was at a lost for words. The curls in her hair bounced slightly from the movement. “Well, okay. Yeah, you’re right.” She grabbed the handle of her purse off the desk and poked him in the chest with one of her pointy pink nails. “Don’t make me regret it mister.”

 

She smacked him with her purse as she passed him on her way out of the set up and left him alone in the fake office. He ran his hand over his face and laughed before stepping into the isle to follow her. But she was nowhere to be found.

 

~

 

In the kitchens she found him. She was leaning against the wall behind the door of the pantry he was looking in. Gave him quite the scare when he closed it.

 

“Watcha makin?” She smiled at him cute. Dimples that he hadn’t noticed before clearly on display. And Harry smiled back. Dimples and all.

 

“Your favorite.” He tapped her on her nose gesturing her further into the kitchen, pulling out a chair at the small round table.

 

“Oooooh.” She moved towards him, squeezing his bicep before sliding into the chair. “My honey sure knows how to treat a lady.”

 

“Only the best for you love.” He moved over to the stove and picked up the pan that sat on top. They smiled at each other over sweetly, laughing at their little game. Taffeta’s eyes drifted to the counter behind him.

 

“An you baked a cake.” He turned to look and she smiled bigger. “Oh honey.”

 

“Of course. Couldn’t forget your birthday could I.” Her smile dropped and she looked at him in shock. “What?”

 

“How’d you know it was my birthday?”

 

“Is it really?” This was exciting. Harry loved birthdays. Finding out it was someone’s birthday always brightened Harry’s day. Even if it was going really shit.

 

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Taffeta pulled out her phone and opened her Twitter app to show him the balloons that had overtaken her profile. He laughed loudly and pulled her into a weird side hug, her shoulder digging into his chest.

 

“This is amazing.” He let her go with a promise to buy her something sweet on the way out. Three candy bars. An ice cream cone with more sprinkles than she’d know what to do with. Funnel cake? Whatever it was, he promised it’d be good.

 

~

 

They walked together into the dining room section, though they lost each other along the way through.

 

It wasn’t until the third to last display did they find each other again. Harry was standing a little too close to the curtains that hung over the fake windows, paying little attention to his surroundings and focusing a little too hard on his phone. After observing the questionable fabric of the curtains, he decided that now was as good a time as any to look up exactly what type of fabric taffeta really was.

 

Originally, Harry had thought it was a good thing that Taffeta was named after taffeta the fabric rather than Taffyta the Sugar Rush racer.

 

Since, you know, that Taffyta was a brat.

 

But after doing some research (google images), he couldn’t understand why her mother would name her after such a cheap looking fabric.  

 

“Hi honey.” Harry nearly dropped his phone at the sound of her voice. He fumbled trying to close out the window before she’d get a look at his screen. That’d be embarrassing.

 

“Always first to the dinner party aren’t you.” He smiled at her from across the table. Sliding his phone into his jacket pocket.

 

“And good thing too.” She walked around to stand next to him, knocking her shoulder into his. He took a time to observe her profile before she turned and smiled. “How are you gonna have a dinner party with no places set?”

 

Harry slapped his palm against his forehead in disbelief.

 

“Ah, how silly of me.” Taffeta giggled and he smiled at her adoringly. “What would I do without you?”

 

She stared at him, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face. Dimples appearing deeper than his own as she blinked slowly at him.

 

“Cry.”

 

He laughed loudly and hung his arm over her shoulder.

 

“Probably, Taffy. Probably.”

**Author's Note:**

> mayhaps not tho


End file.
